


Just An Outline

by merulanoir



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir
Summary: “Have you and Daud ever… Have you dated?”Corvo blinked. He stepped on the uneasy feeling that immediately raised its head. “I don’t think he has time to date. You know how busy his job is this time of the year. Besides, he explained that online dating is for weirdos.”Emily groaned like something was causing her physical pain. “Not someone else. Each other. You and him.”
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud, Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew
Comments: 13
Kudos: 105





	Just An Outline

**Author's Note:**

> Because ace!Daud is the best Daud, and I needed some soft nonsense.

“Hey love.”

Emily looked up and smiled. Alexi was so damn pretty in the navy blue gown, her red hair on an updo the kind Emily had never seen her wear before.  _ My wife,  _ she thought, before realizing she’d actually said something.

Alexi grinned and bent down to kiss her. “Too late to be the blushing bride, but I’ll take it.” Emily laughed. The whole day had been—so much, so much joy and happiness and familiarity, all condensing and swirling until she felt giddy even though she’d made sure to drink more water than sparkling wine. 

“What’s up?”

Alexi sat down and fanned her hand before her face. The rings glinted in the low light, and the sight made a rush of happiness swirl up inside Emily’s chest. 

“Just talked to Daud,” Alexi said, nodding her head towards the table that had served as the parents’ and family’s one and was now just occupied by people who were taking a break from dancing. Emily saw the man there, talking animatedly with Callista and her uncle. Corvo was there too, clearly having escaped the dancefloor only a moment ago. He was leaning against Daud’s side and laughing at whatever he was saying.

“My aunt asked how long he and your dad have been together,” Alexi said. Emily, who had been taking a calculated sip of water, almost choked.

“She what?”

Alexi chortled. “When I told her they weren’t a couple, Void! She went so red, apologized, all that, and then,” she leaned in closer, eyes gleaming like she was about to impart some great secret, “told me what a shame it was.”

Emily stared at her wife for a long moment. Alexi shrugged. “She said she wasn’t the only one who thought they were together.”

“But they’re…” Emily took another sip of water. “Best friends. Have been for years.”

“Uh-huh,” Alexi agreed, turning to look towards them again. Just as Emily mimicked her, Corvo turned to whisper something to Daud, who seemed to snort some cognac up his nose, judging by how he started coughing. 

“They’re best friends,” Emily said again. “I mean, you’ve been around almost as long as Daud. You’re both part of the family.”

“Luckily you decided to marry me,” Alexi said with a wink before sobering up again. “No I just… I never thought about it, but they’re  _ so close. _ It sort of makes sense that people would think that they’re, you know. A thing.”

“They are a thing, though,” Emily said with a shrug, forgetting it was unwise to do that while wearing a dress with no shoulder straps. “They hang out every day.”

Alexi nodded. Emily didn’t look, but she didn’t have to. She knew how her dad and his best friend were. Daud had been in her life for almost fifteen years by now. 

She remembered moving to Dunwall when she was eight and her parents divorcing when she was ten. She remembered living with both of them one week at a time, until she went to high school and it made more sense for her to stay with Corvo during the week. So she’d moved in, and right around that time someone else had moved into the flat opposite from them in the apartment building.

It had been a miserable place, all things considered, but Corvo had staunchly refused to use his ex-wife’s connections to secure an apartment in a more well-off area. So when the AC broke in the middle of a hellish month of Harvest and the landlord refused to fix it, the neighbors quickly became familiar faces as they banded together.

Corvo and Daud had led the charge on account of both of them being stubborn assholes, according to the old lady who’d lived on the same floor. Emily remembered them bickering over apartment and renting law in their kitchen, glasses of ice tea sweating on the table and a lone fan droning in the background. And then it morphed into shared dinners, Daud helping Emily with her chemistry homework, and even after the AC was finally fixed, Daud never left.

Daud was a special education teacher. He specialized in kids from poor and/or miserable backgrounds. He had chosen to teach at a school in the Dunwall’s poorest district, and when Emily had asked why he’d just shrugged and explained that he liked a challenge. When she’d been older Daud had told her he’d grown up in a place much like that one, and that he just wanted to help. 

Daud and Corvo had clicked immediately. When Emily was still in high school the building they all lived in was declared uninhabitable, and they’d been forced to move out. Instead of going their separate ways, Corvo and Daud had found a duplex in the marginally nicer neighborhood and bought it. Emily and Corvo had moved in on the right side, Daud on the left, and that had been their home. 

“Have they?”Alexi brought Emily back into the present moment. 

“Have they what?” Emily cocked her head and Alexi turned to her, frowning slightly.

“Dated.”

Emily blinked. Alexi’s frown grew a few degrees more intense. “They chose to buy a house together. They both parented you, basically. And they’re so  _ comfortable  _ together.”

Emily turned to look without meaning to. Daud had thrown his big arm around Corvo’s shoulders, and they were still talking with the Curnows. Both looked utterly at ease.

“They’re best friends,” Emily repeated, but with less certainty now. Alexi sighed. “I don’t mean to discount how important deep friendships are, but...you know? When you look at them, it makes you wonder.”

“I guess so.” 

Emily felt vaguely guilty about discussing her father’s and his closest friend’s personal life, but the thought refused to leave her. Throughout the rest of the evening it kept popping up, pointing out how Corvo had stopped dating anyone when Emily had been sixteen or so; how Daud had never mentioned a partner; how they had kept planning their lives around each other.

***

Corvo lifted the groceries from the car trunk and shuffled out of the way so Emily could pop it closed. The sun was beating down in a decidedly non-Gristolian way, and he felt sweaty and sore.

“Almost there,” Emily told him as she snatched up her own bags, taking the steps two at a time. Corvo sighed and followed her, but he was smiling. The condo Emily and Alexi had bought was nice, and if he had to spend his free weekend getting dragged around shops choosing curtains, so be it. Emily wanted to surprise Alexi by finishing the decorations while she was away visiting her brother. 

“We made it.” Emily dumped the heavy canvas bags full of curtains on the floor. Corvo closed the door behind himself and passed the groceries to his daughter, groaning as he straightened up and his spine popped. From the kitchen, he could hear Emily mutter to herself as she put away the food. 

“Are you sure you won’t stay to help me?” she asked as she poked her head through the doorway. “I could cook something.”

“You can’t cook,” Corvo told her, raising an eyebrow. Emily rolled her eyes.

“I could order a pizza.  _ You _ could enjoy a nice evening with your daughter.”

“While hanging curtains. I think I’ll pass,” Corvo laughed. “Besides, I happen to know Daud’s grilling tonight.” Emily made an envious groan, knowing full-well which one of their mismatched family unit had the cooking skills.

“I understand perfectly well. I hope my wife comes back soon to make sure I don’t starve.” The happy glow surrounding her when she said “my wife” made Corvo’s throat tight for a second.

Emily walked him to his car, but when Corvo was about to hug her goodbye she suddenly frowned and opened her mouth. “Can I ask something?” she blurted out with no preamble. Corvo raised his brows. 

“It’s personal,” Emily added. She looked torn between curious and embarrassed.

“Shoot.” He didn’t know whether to be apprehensive or amused.

“Have you and Daud ever… Have you dated?”

Corvo blinked. He stepped on the uneasy feeling that immediately raised its head. “I don’t think he has time to date. You know how busy his job is this time of the year. Besides, he explained that online dating is for weirdos.”

Emily groaned like something was causing her physical pain. “Not someone else. Each other. You and him.”

With a snap, the unease was replaced by a susurrus. Corvo knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t find his words just then. Emily was steadily looking the other way as redness crept up her neck. “Someone at the wedding. They thought you were a couple. And Alexi and I talked about it—”

“Hey, hey,” Corvo chuckled, throat tight and unable to identify what was causing it. He tugged Emily into a hug. “It’s fine. Not everyone gets married. I get that it’s on your mind now, but—”

“Have you talked about it?” Emily cut it. She stepped back but held his hand in hers. “Because you get along so well, and I thought it was stupid at first but now that I think about it you might—”

Corvo shook his head and she trailed off, face bright red. He squeezed her hand and smiled. “Nah. We’re just friends.”

“‘Kay,” Emily said and cleared her throat. “Sorry. It’s just. It’s been bothering me.”

Only when he was parking his car at his driveway Corvo realized he wasn’t feeling off-balance because the thought of him and Daud was unimaginable. He’d just...never really thought about it. He sat behind the wheel for a while, staring at nothing in particular; they’d become friends so fast, first through shared misery at the apartment building and then growing damn close. Buying a house together, planning their holidays around each other, spending time together on a daily basis…

“Fuck me.” Corvo told his car as he finally climbed out and headed inside. He felt stupid for even thinking about this. There was a knot of unease deep in his gut, like every time when people got nosy.

***

Corvo had something on his mind. Daud didn’t have to ask, he could tell by the way he lost track of his thoughts as they cooked, often staring at nothing or Daud in silence for a while before snapping out of it and busying himself with chopping vegetables. Daud let him be, filling the silences himself. He knew Corvo would tell him sooner or later. He always did.

The sun had just gone down when they finished eating. The air was still warm, and Daud let the dishes be as he sat down on the ridiculous patio couch Emily and Alexi had gifted him last year. It wasn’t big enough to be a real couch, but Daud refused to call it a loveseat. He rubbed moisture off his beer bottle as he sat in silence, enjoying the quiet that had just settled over the sparse neighborhood. 

Corvo had fallen silent towards the end of the dinner, but it was alright. He was still sitting at the table, folding his napkin into a crane and frowning at nothing in particular. Daud watched him, and a smile tugged at his mouth. If it had been something serious, he would’ve known. Corvo was his family. Corvo trusted Daud, and they shared almost everything these days. So whatever Corvo was mulling over was nothing too serious.

Just as Daud was about to get up to get them fresh beers, Corvo suddenly stood up and strode over. He sank down onto the couch, and yeah, maybe it was too small for two grown men, but this was how they passed their quiet evenings. Just sitting and chatting next to each other. It was comfortable and familiar.

“Care to share?” Daud asked. He watched as Corvo methodically peeled off the soggy etiquette off his beer and then started to fold it. The paper ripped before he could finish and he sighed. Daud chuckled. 

“It’s stupid,” Corvo finally said. He put his empty bottle down and leaned back, pressing against Daud’s side as he did. 

“Well, I’m pretty used to  _ you, _ so,” Daud told him. Usually ribbing Corvo got him to open up (and to flip Daud off, but that wasn’t here nor there,) but now Corvo turned to stare at him. There was something unreadable in his expression, the way he was frowning and  _ looking  _ at Daud. 

Corvo inhaled and—was he blushing?

“Why did we never— I mean, Emily asked me, and apparently it was Alexi’s idea, and I don’t know if this is too personal so just tell me to shut up, but—”

“Corvo,” Daud said, effectively cutting off the rambling. He turned towards his best friend as much as the small couch allowed and gently gripped his shoulder. “Is something wrong?” Daud hated the idea that he had maybe misjudged Corvo’s odd mood. What if something was amiss?

Corvo visibly swallowed and then he squeezed his eyes shut. “Why did we never date?”

Daud forgot to blink. A dull ringing started at the base of his skull, and it took him a moment to parse that the rush of warmth that went through him wasn’t unpleasant at all. “I,” he finally started, not knowing where in the Void he was going with it. Corvo waited, tense and almost  _ scared.  _ That finally shook Daud free from the stupor. 

“Did you want to?” was all he could think to ask.

Corvo exhaled shakily, almost a laugh but not quite. “I didn’t— I never thought about it.” He didn’t meet Daud’s eye when he said it. 

_ You did,  _ a small voice pointed out inside Daud’s head, and he shooed it away.

“I don’t know,” Daud said quietly. Corvo’s head snapped up and suddenly he was looking at Daud again with eyes big and full of something. “Why we didn’t,” Daud added, feeling his cheeks grow hot. It was his turn to look away. 

“I mean,” Corvo said, again rushing his words as if scared that Daud would get up and walk away if he didn’t get them all out, “you know I’m into guys, and you never said you weren’t, and we’re so close, and apparently a lot of people thought we’re a couple during the wedding, so—”

He fell silent when Daud slid his hand off his shoulder, looking crestfallen for half a second before Daud took his hand instead. Corvo’s face went bright red. Daud looked at their joined hands for a while, trying to marshal his thoughts into some kind of an order. 

“Did you want to?” Daud asked again, quieter. He kept looking down, remembering how he’d held Corvo’s hand when Emily moved away for university and he was lonely in his home; lonely enough to knock on Daud’s door at eleven pm and then cry for a while on the sofa because things changing hit him hard every time. 

Daud had held his hand as they went to bed together, because Corvo didn’t want to sleep alone in his half of the house. 

“Maybe,” Corvo said quickly, and then he inhaled like he wished he could suck the word back in. When Daud looked, Corvo was so tense he looked ready to snap. “But I… If you don’t—”

“I didn’t say that,” Daud’s mouth said before he could prevent it. Corvo turned to stare at him, and Daud sincerely hoped it wasn’t just his hand that was getting sweaty. Letting go didn’t feel like an option, though.

“Oh.” Corvo blinked rapidly. “Oh. Well.”

Daud inhaled, deep, and then let the air out slowly. He rubbed his face with his free hand. “Listen. Yeah, I don’t know why we never...you know. But you’re too important for me to fuck it up.”

Yeah, those were the right words. Daud watched as Corvo let them sink in, mouthing them like he did when he was processing. He hadn’t shaved today, and while he kept moaning about the beard making him look older, Daud had always liked the stubble. 

“Yeah,” Corvo said in a small voice. Then he squeezed Daud’s hand carefully. “That’s, yeah. I don’t want to lose this.”

They sat in silence for a while, both digesting the discussion and everything that was now hanging over their heads, left unsaid. Daud stared over the backyard and towards the horizon. He remembered moving in together with Corvo and Emily. They’d shared a truck, because Corvo knew how to drive one. They’d had a shared housewarming party, too. Daud had the spare key to Corvo’s, and vice versa.

_ I didn’t want to think about it, because what if it goes wrong?  _ Daud felt something heavy inside his chest as his heart tried to pick up the pace. The thought of trying something and it failing, and them subsequently losing everything they’d built felt like too big a threat.

Suddenly Corvo laid his head on Daud’s shoulder and pressed closer. He was nervous, holding his breath as he did, but before Daud could consciously start to freak out he was already shuffling his own position, extracting his hand to wrap his arm around Corvo. It felt natural, but even more it felt like releasing a breath he’d been holding for years.

Corvo went slack with apparent relief, and Daud’s head swam. Corvo’s hair was tickling his face, and it felt so  _ right;  _ They had always fit together well, but being like this felt so good it almost hurt. Just like it had pulled at some deep, unnamed part of Daud during the wedding to split the hotel room expenses with Corvo and then share the only bed in the room, only to wake up holding him, both of them slightly hung over and too tired to address waking up wrapped around each other.

Corvo hesitated and then laid his hand on Daud’s bare arm as he turned to peer at him. Daud was unable to move, but he didn’t want to let go. He wanted to stay here for the rest of eternity, just listening to how fast Corvo’s heart was beating.

“Should we try?” Corvo asked so quietly it was almost a whisper. He didn’t have to say the obvious; both of them wanted it. Both of them had apparently wanted it for a good while, and neither of them had ever entertained the idea of trying.

Daud tilted his head just slightly, and when his lips brushed Corvo’s forehead they both shivered. His own heart was beating so fast it felt fit to burst, and Daud didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he was brave enough to risk the most important person in his life; what if it turned out they didn’t work together?

“We should think about this,” Daud said, lips forming the words against Corvo’s skin. Corvo nodded, and relief made him relax, pressing still closer. Taking the decision out of their hands for now felt safer; they could think about it, talk about it. Later.

Corvo’s eyes were wide and somehow hopeful, and Daud knew he was staring. He’d always found Corvo handsome, and it had never before occurred to him to inspect the feeling. He just thought he was lucky, having a friend like Corvo, and if they were closer than friends, well, that was just something he had to hold close to his heart, right?

“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do,” Corvo mumbled. His eyes slid off Daud, and it felt like someone had finally turned off a floodlight staring straight at his face. It was easier to lean his head against Corvo’s after that. Corvo made an unidentifiable noise as he did, but he didn’t let go of Daud’s arm. 

***

Corvo didn’t sleep well. It took him forever to fall asleep, and then he kept waking up halfway, somehow expecting not to be alone before dropping back into fitful sleep. 

The morning dawned dull and gray, and as he was loading up his coffee maker he could hear the first raindrops tap against the glass. Corvo leaned against the counter and stared out of the window, mind turning over yesterday.

He’d bid Daud goodnight. Daud had stood up and let him go, looking intensely awkward, and Corvo had wanted to both flee and press close again. He’d settled on brushing his hand against Daud’s and _ then _ fleeing. Now Corvo just wanted to abandon the whole idea; he was almost angry at Emily for bringing it up in the first place, because things had been comfortable. He and Daud had a good thing going, and now he was terrified of having already ruined it. 

They shared almost everything. They coordinated their schedules, got groceries together, worked on the house and garden together. The duplex wasn’t so much two apartments sharing a wall than it was a home as a whole. They’d torn down the wall separating the back porches and dug up the hedge between the back gardens. A few years ago Corvo had joked about just blasting a new door into the wall separating their kitchens, because Daud made better coffee than he did. As it was, it was normal that during lazy weekends either of them would shuffle over to the other side of the wall to read the newspapers and binge-watch the news. 

Now Corvo stood in his empty kitchen and he wanted to grab his mediocre coffee and pad over the patio to Daud’s side. The apartments were mirror images of each other, and he wondered whether Daud was standing on the exact same spot, staring outside and wondering whether they’d made a huge mistake. 

The wind picked up the second Corvo stepped outside. He cursed not taking his slippers, and then just hurried to the neighboring backdoor. The trip was short, but the rain chose that exact moment to come down in earnest, and as Corvo rapped against the glass door he felt water soaking through his sweats.

Daud opened the door almost the second Corvo knocked, and then he was pulling Corvo inside with a scowl. “The fuck.” He quickly closed the door. “You know I leave it open. Why’d you wait outside to get wet?”

Corvo gripped his coffee mug, now lukewarm, and didn’t know how to say  _ I didn’t want to make you feel awkward  _ without sounding awkward himself. It failed anyway, because as soon as Daud saw him just standing there, his eyes softened. 

“Hey.” Corvo finally looked up when Daud stepped closer. Corvo knew they touched a lot compared to most people, but now even that felt different, and he didn’t know if he liked it. He wanted the comfort back.

“It’s okay,” Daud said. He rubbed his hands over the chilled skin on Corvo’s arms. “Nothing’s changed.” 

Corvo managed to look up and his belly did a funny flip; Daud was smiling and looking at him like he was an idiot. Corvo knew he was gruff by default, and it had never before occurred to him to question why he got Daud to show this softer side so easily.

Daud left to get him a towel and a dry shirt, and Corvo sank onto the couch. His coffee was now officially disgusting, and when Daud threw a worn, too big t-shirt at his head he plucked the mug from his hands without a word and went to drain its contents. A few minutes later Corvo was dressed in a shirt that smelled like Daud’s laundry powder, his hair frizzing up as it dried, and Daud pressed a new mug of coffee into his hands. 

Corvo didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t Daud sitting down next to him. He put his arm around him just like yesterday, and Corvo relaxed against him. This was new, but it was good. Daud sighed but didn’t say anything, and Corvo focused on drinking his coffee and letting the warmth seep into him. Daud ran hot, and leaning against his side felt safe. When Corvo was done with the coffee he let his head tip back until Daud pressed his nose into his hair.

“We should, uh, talk about this.” Corvo fiddled with the empty mug, glad he didn’t have to look at Daud right then. 

“Yeah.” Daud smoothed his hair and Corvo pressed into the touch without thinking. In how many ways they had touched during the years, and now everything felt new and exhilarating all of a sudden.

“We can just forget it, if you want,” Daud said. He sounded reluctant. “But…”

“I’m not sure I want to,” Corvo said. He’d kept turning the thought around all night, slipping in and out of sleep, and he still felt lost. At the same time there was something small and bright glowing inside him, because deep down he’d always wondered; how would it feel to press that much closer? Share everything, and not just content with what was safe?

He felt Daud’s slow smile against his scalp. Pleasure zinged through him, and on its heels came satisfaction. He wanted to make Daud smile. He wanted to make Daud happy. He could work with that. Corvo turned around and it brought them face to face. Daud’s cheeks were pink but he didn’t look away; if anything, his arm around Corvo tightened minutely. 

“I want us to be happy,” Corvo said. It sounded vaguely stupid, but it was the best he had right then. Daud snorted, not unkindly. “I’ve been pretty happy.”

Corvo swallowed. “Happier, then?”

Daud smiled again. It was a familiar smile, but now there was something new there. “Sure,” he said with a faint laugh.

“We can take it slow,” Corvo told him, playing with the fabric where his hand was resting against Daud’s chest. 

Daud hummed. His gaze slanted downwards, thoughtful. “I thought about you yesterday. After you left. Tried to figure out why you’ve always been different than my other friends. Thomas and Rulf and the rest.”

“And?” Corvo was feeling slightly giddy. Daud kept glancing at him like he wanted to make sure Corvo was listening, all the while smiling like he knew a secret he wasn’t going to reveal.

Without a warning, Daud leaned closer. Corvo sucked in a breath, and then he felt Daud’s breath ghost over his mouth. Their noses were brushing, and Corvo let his eyes slip closed. He felt Daud’s fingers, calloused and warm where they touched his cheek. “Dunno,” Daud murmured. “You were always just...special. And when I thought about it, maybe I always wanted to do  _ this. _ ”

“Why didn’t you?” Corvo breathed, shivering. He wanted to lean in. He didn’t know what he wanted, apart from touching Daud more. 

“Why didn’t  _ you? _ ” Daud asked in return, laughter evident in his voice. Corvo envied the ease Daud had apparently found overnight. 

“Dunno,” he mumbled. He swayed closer, and stole the soft exhalation from Daud’s mouth. They were hovering, almost there, noses pressed softly together, and finally Corvo couldn’t take it anymore.

He’d wanted to kiss Daud when he woke up after the wedding. They had been tangled up in bed, and Daud had been just looking at him, smiling a little, and Corvo’s belly had lurched at the sight; he’d told himself it was just an impulse, something he should maybe bury away. The wedding had thrown him slightly off-kilter, because maybe he  _ was _ missing having a partner and the only person in the world he could imagine filling that role happened to be his best friend.

Daud sighed when their mouths touched. It was just a brush of lips, testing, and Corvo felt like the entire world was balancing on a needlepoint. For a few moments they were still, sharing breaths, and then Daud cupped his cheek properly and leaned in.

Corvo’s first thought was that it was better than he’d not-imagined. His second thought was something along the lines of  _ what the fuck were we waiting for,  _ and then he groaned and shifted, pressing against Daud and kissing back properly. Daud laughed into his mouth, hand sliding into his hair and one arm wrapping around Corvo’s waist. It felt safe and made Corvo’s ears ring.

Daud was careful. He pressed and pulled back until he made Corvo chase him. Then he pressed again, and parted his lips just enough to slot them together in a way that made Corvo dimly wonder how they could fit together so well. Daud’s hair was soft and mussed up under his palm, and when Corvo pulled away for the sake of propriety, Daud leaned into the touch with a happy hum.

“Okay, well,” Corvo mumbled, cheeks burning. “I definitely wanna do that again.”

Daud barked a laugh and drew him back in. Corvo just closed his eyes and held on, kissing back, and through it all he could feel as something settled after being rattled out of place yesterday. Daud smelled familiar, but now his scent was everywhere, and that felt right; it felt right that it was Corvo here pressed against him on the sofa, both still in their pajamas and tasting of coffee.

Finally Daud drew back and leaned his forehead against Corvo’s. They breathed together for a while as they tried to find out how to address this. It was moving rather quick, Corvo finally thought. He’d only broached the topic yesterday. And now he was trying to think of how he could keep kissing Daud.

“Hey.” Daud nudged his nose. “Talk to me?” He looked worried, but his lips were well-kissed and Corvo couldn’t help smiling.

“I’m okay.” He just wanted to keep doing...this. “You?”

“Yeah,” Daud said, smiling as well. “I liked that.”

Corvo wanted to ask whether Daud liked  _ him, _ but he immediately kicked himself. They were just starting, only trying this out. So instead he just kept smiling, because he wanted to, and Daud was smiling too and petting his hair (short now, after Emily had pointed out he was starting to go gray.)

“Do you want to go out?” Daud asked. Corvo frowned and looked through the window.

“It’s raining.”

Daud laughed and held him tighter. “Idiot. On a date. With me.”

“Oh.” Corvo felt his cheeks grow hot. How did he make it to almost fifty being like this? “Yes.” Daud grinned. He hesitated and then kissed Corvo again, softer now. Corvo melted against him until he chuckled. 

“I haven’t been out on a date for...over ten years.” Corvo finally said. The last time had been with his then-boyfriend, who’d dropped out of the picture when Emily had been in high school. He looked up. “Have you?”

Daud shrugged. “A few.”

Corvo’s mouth fell open. “You never told me!” The feeling that rose up was  _ not  _ jealousy, he told himself. Daud shrugged again, looking like he knew what Corvo was thinking. “No third dates, since you’re wondering. Nothing really came of it.”

He didn’t elaborate, but Corvo swallowed as he nodded. He wondered whether Daud had felt the same, that it was stupid to date strangers you met online when you had someone who knew you inside and out, and who you could press against on the couch when you felt lonely; someone you already shared a home and family with, who was so damn important and who you couldn’t bear to lose, as you told yourself when you started to long for something more.

“So...a date?” he asked instead of dragging out the messy feelings. Daud’s eyes brightened. “We could go and have lunch. You slept in today.” 

A glance at the clock confirmed this. Corvo rubbed his eyes. “Had a lot on my mind yesterday.” Again, Daud just held him closer. It should have felt awkward, and in a way it did, but the feeling of  _ right  _ and  _ good  _ was stronger. 

“Okay.” Daud pecked him on the lips and then got up. “Go take a shower and change.” Corvo remained sitting. He frowned. Daud’s smile widened and he actually looked a little smug.

“I’m taking you out on a date,” he said slowly, as if Corvo needed small words to understand. “So now you go and take a shower, blow dry your hair like Emily taught you, pick something nice to wear, and then I will come pick you up in an hour.”

Corvo snorted, but then he saw Daud was being serious and he  _ blushed _ again. He’d assumed they’d go to the diner down the road and gorge themselves on breakfast food, but apparently not. He didn’t know how to address the confusing ball of excitement and sheer nerves that were suddenly manifesting. 

Daud kissed him one more time before pushing him out of the backdoor. Corvo relaxed again, because this was easy; kissing Daud was easy, and if they could just keep doing that, it’d be fine.

“The red shirt looks nice on you,” Daud murmured before letting him go.

He almost didn’t blow dry his hair out of spite, but then he remembered how excited Daud had looked; like the idea of them going out on an actual date made him happy, him getting to take out his best friend whom he’d just been kissing for close to twenty minutes. Corvo listened to the steady whirr of Emily’s old hairdryer as he tried to think of what to wear. He wasn’t going to dress up, that would be stupid; it was Saturday, not even one in the afternoon, and besides if he didn’t manage to pick up something Daud would like it would just be embarrassing. 

Corvo dug through his closet and eventually just settled on the red shirt. He’d bought it some months ago, and it was just slightly better cut than his usual flannels. Black jeans, his neater Converses, and then he was standing in the foyer and trying not to get nervous. On a whim he ducked back into the bathroom and tapped just a little cologne on his neck and then immediately felt stupid. Luckily the doorbell rang before he could start washing it off.

It was odd to open the door for Daud. He usually used his own key when he came over, and seeing him standing there made Corvo’s belly do another unadvised flip. Daud was holding a big umbrella and he’d shaved, and he was wearing the nice shirt Corvo and Emily had given him for his birthday last year. 

_ I mean, he always looks good,  _ Corvo told himself as he stepped out in a weird daze.  _ Daud always looks good, because he’s big and strong and he has that gravity that makes people look at him.  _ Another flash of irritation went through him; he didn’t like being exposed like this. Even when no one knew they were trying this, Corvo felt like some tender, secret part of his was now without cover.

He was still stuck on that loop when Daud parked in front of a bistro Corvo had never seen before. Outside he took Corvo’s hand and then stopped. The rain had ceased, so they were just standing there, and now Daud was looking awkward.

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna do this,” he blurted out when Corvo couldn’t unstick his tongue to ask how he’d known about a place this nice. Daud gave his hand a squeeze and then dropped it, rubbing his face. “Void, I should’ve asked if you want to do this, but I just assumed. I’m sorry. Just because we kissed doesn’t mean that… I just—”

“I like kissing you,” Corvo said, because his frozen mind deemed that the most vital thing to address. Daud shut up with a click, shoulders hunched in a way that told Corvo he thought he’d done something wrong.

“I want to—to go on a date,” Corvo went on, trying to untangle his words. “I’m just afraid I’ll screw this up and we won’t be friends anymore.” Well, that was certainly something, if about two units too heavy.

Daud’s face went very soft at that. He stepped closer again and pulled Corvo against himself, and Corvo exhaled, trying to reel the fear back in. He wanted to keep kissing Daud. He’d wanted to kiss Daud for years and do other stuff besides, but he was terrified of them messing up their rhythm.

“I like you,” Daud said quietly. “I’ve always liked you, and that won’t change. I’m not going to leave. If this doesn’t work out, we’ll figure out how to go back to being just friends, alright?”

Corvo nodded, struck mute. Daud was so close, and Corvo didn’t understand why he was so terrified when he was suddenly exactly where he’d not-dreamed of being for years. He hadn’t wanted this because if he started to want then he’d either have to address how Daud made him feel secure and happy like no one else, or live with knowing that there was a secret he wasn’t telling. 

Void, he really had been fooling himself.

“Can I kiss you?” Corvo asked quietly. He felt miserable all of a sudden, but when Daud smiled and cupped his cheeks to lean in it started to evaporate. Corvo closed his eyes and for a while he allowed himself to imagine they were just starting. That he’d been brave enough to ask Daud out when they became friends, and not just quietly pine for years while pretending he wasn’t turning down anyone asking him out because his heart was already taken. That he and Daud could unwind enough of their set roles to learn new ones.

***

It became easier after the date. The first week wasn’t exactly awkward, but Daud noticed they were learning new things about each other after being stable in their knowledge for years. Corvo started to sleep over at his place more often than not, and Daud found out he kicked off his covers and then huddled up against Daud when he got cold. Sometimes Corvo talked in his sleep, and it shouldn’t have been adorable but Daud couldn’t find another word for it.

Daud didn’t know where they were headed. His last serious relationship had been almost twenty years ago, and after he’d met Corvo his interest in looking for one had fizzled out. They had talked about dating during that first day, but now they were having dinner together almost every night, sharing a bed for sleep, and it was so domestic it threw Daud out of balance. He’d longed for this, he was finding out, sharing a home with Corvo.

They kissed a lot. Soft pecks on the lips and cheeks; hugs that now turned into kisses as Daud left for work; Daud picking Corvo up from the university from his evening lectures, and Corvo pressing close, taking his hand, and kissing Daud like they hadn’t just discovered this, but rather had always lived like this. Daud wanted to ask about it. He wanted to know what he should call Corvo. His partner? Still his best friend?

And sometimes Corvo kissed him in the morning, when they were still in bed, and they both pulled away when it got too much; there was a boundary there, and crossing it felt like the final step towards admitting that they had never been just friends. Daud had no idea how he could do it without wrecking everything that was building between them.

*

“Hey.” Corvo drew back. A second ago he’d been kissing Daud and pressing fully against him, and now he was smiling a little and settling more comfortably on the bed. They’d been trying to take a nap, but then Daud had kissed Corvo’s neck and—

“We should have that talk,” Corvo said. He looked sheepish. “You know. What we’re doing.”

Daud nodded, but he could feel the anxiety creep into him almost immediately. Suddenly he couldn’t meet Corvo’s eye. They’d been kissing a lot, and sometimes Daud could feel Corvo starting to get hard, and every time his throat closed up and dread snuck clammy fingers around his heart. 

Corvo didn’t miss him pulling away. His grip didn’t loosen, but when Daud glanced he was starting to realize something wasn’t right. “Daud?” Corvo’s voice was soft. The hand that had been stroking his hair came to cup his cheek, gently turning his face up. “What’s wrong?”

Daud sucked in a shaky breath. He knew he should’ve addressed this in the beginning and not now, when both of them had gotten a taste of how damn well they fit together. 

“What do you want?” Daud asked in a scratchy tone. He just couldn’t bring himself to start talking. Corvo’s smile had completely vanished, and he was frowning.

“I—” He swallowed and then visibly steeled himself. “I want to be with you. Like we’ve been.”

“Well there’s the problem,” Daud rasped. He had to close his eyes, because saying this hurt, it hurt just as bad as he’d feared. “This, the way we’ve been, it’s—that would be it.”

He’d hoped so much that with Corvo it could be different; that Corvo would be that person with whom he could have sex normally, without tricks and caveats and hasty retreats if and when it got uncomfortable. Daud stared at nothing at all as the feeling crested, because he hadn’t been aware of just how terrified he was of losing Corvo. Up until now, Daud had been the one assuring him they’d be okay even if something went sideways.

“I don’t follow.” Corvo didn’t let him go. Very slowly, Daud made himself look up again. Corvo was now looking worried and confused.

“I don’t—like sex,” Daud forced the words out one by one. Each one came like a tooth he had to pull out. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to be touched like that.”

“Oh.” 

Daud had to take several seconds to understand Corvo didn’t sound disappointed. Then Corvo blinked and his eyes went wide. “You were—you’re worried about that?” He still wasn’t letting Daud go.

Daud swallowed. “Well, not exactly. I’ve always been this way. But you probably don’t want to—have a relationship like that.” The last words were faint, as he gradually lost his nerve to say it aloud. 

“What?” Corvo opened and closed his mouth. “I didn’t— _ did _ I say that?” For a moment he looked so alarmed that it made Daud chuckle. “No. But I just…”

“Assumed.” Corvo gave him a small smile. Then he hesitantly shuffled closer until their noses were brushing. “So no sex at all? That was the thing you’ve been worrying about?” Daud frowned, and Corvo smiled. It made his eyes crinkle in a way that Daud had always loved. 

“I know you,” Corvo said, “I know what you look like when you are brooding.” He said it teasingly, and Daud just snorted. Fine, point taken. “Sometimes I thought you didn’t want to do this, but then you’d look really happy when we’re together, so I didn’t know.” Corvo was stroking his hair again.

Daud shrugged and then shook his head. The adrenaline was finally trickling away. “I tried to like it when I was younger, but most of it grosses me out.” He hadn’t meant to lay it out so plainly, but Corvo was still here. Daud took a deep breath. “I wanted to be okay with it, with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Corvo immediately protested. “If it repulses you, then it’s a no-go.”

Another deep breath, because now it was time for the hard part. Daud took Corvo’s hand. “And if you want to be together, how are you going to manage? You’re not asexual.” He’d never called himself that before, Daud realized. He’d always known, ever since coming across the term, but he’d never used it.

“I’m not.” Corvo chewed on his lip. “But I want to be with you.” He said it very earnestly, the way Daud had never learned to express his feelings. Corvo had never believed in hiding what he felt. Daud wanted to stop talking. He wanted to kiss Corvo again, bury the difficult topic, because being together had been good and he would go to pieces if he lost it. 

“I can’t do open relationships,” Daud said very quietly. “I’m monogamous. And it feels...unfair to make you give up sex.” 

Before he could react, Corvo pinned him down and kissed him. Daud groaned and kissed back as some small, mean part pointed out he should enjoy this while it lasted. He forcefully shoved it aside and wrapped his arms around Corvo to hold him closer.

“You’re not making me choose,” Corvo blurted out when he came up for air. His eyes were a bit alarmed. “You’re trying to give me reasons to walk away, dammit.”

“Because I can’t live with myself if you start to resent me,” Daud snapped. Then he almost covered his mouth because Void; there was opening up about feelings, and there was whatever he was doing now. Corvo’s face fell. He stayed where he was, on top of Daud, but his grip grew slack. 

“I could never do that,” he finally said, near-whisper. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a fucking long time, and I can’t just—ignore that anymore.”

Daud could feel his heart skip a beat. To his horror, his vision blurred, and then Corvo was kissing him again, all the while murmuring soft words. Daud kissed back and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to hope, but it was too late. It had been too late for years.

*

“What if I get hard?” Corvo slipped under the covers and snuggled closer to Daud. The other man was scrolling through the news on his phone and almost dropped it on his face at the question.

“What?” Daud put the phone away and turned on his side, frowning. “Where did this come from?”

“When we’re kissing and...stuff,” Corvo explained. He felt his cheeks grow hot. “I get aroused. Sometimes. Does it bother you?” Daud snorted and pulled him closer. Corvo wriggled around until he could be the little spoon and forever deny that it was the way he preferred cuddling. 

“Nah.”

“Full words,” Corvo grumbled. Daud’s amused sigh stirred the hair at the back of his neck, making him shiver.

“I said  _ I  _ don’t want to be touched, right?” Daud tightened his grip. “As long as you keep your hands out of my underwear, it’s all good.” Corvo smiled, even when he knew Daud couldn’t see it. They fell silent, and Corvo was almost dozing off when Daud spoke again. 

“Maybe if you wanted to...to touch yourself, and you wanted me to be close. That could be good, too.”

Corvo knew he didn’t blush often, but right then he knew he went crimson. Something about the thought of touching himself while Daud was  _ there  _ felt almost too intimate. He squirmed a little and Daud huffed a laugh that then made him shiver again. “You like that idea?” Daud asked in a murmur.

Corvo swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. “But I want you to just— I need you to know that I don’t want to do anything you don’t like.”

Daud was quiet for a while. His hand was resting against Corvo’s belly, thumb stroking him idly. Corvo focused on how good it felt to be like this: Daud’s bare chest against his back, their legs tangled together, and knowing it was important and precious to both of them. 

“I believe you,” Daud finally said. It made Corvo smile.

“It’s like… What if I really liked to watch action movies? And you hated them, as in, just  _ loathed  _ the genre? I couldn’t bring myself to make you watch them with me.” He realized it was a stupid analogy halfway through explaining it, but Daud was already shaking with laughter. Corvo felt loose and happy.

“There’s nothing I’d enjoy about that,” he went on, insistent. “And it doesn’t feel like I’m giving up on much.”

“No?” Daud’s voice wasn’t insecure now. Corvo was coming to understand that he was comfortable in his own identity; what worried Daud was making Corvo miserable. Pot, kettle.

“A possible chance to fuck someone, versus...well.” Corvo swallowed. “You.” Maybe he imagined Daud’s breath catching a little. His own definitely did.

***

Maybe being together with Corvo was  _ too easy _ , Daud reflected. He realized this when he was kissing Corvo’s cheek and physically felt both Emily’s and Alexi’s gazes land on them. He froze, mouth hovering an inch away, his arm wrapped around his shoulders like he loved to do.

They’d been—together for five weeks. Or maybe fifteen years. It was hard to tell, because so little had changed while absolutely everything had; most nights they shared a bed, most days they lived just like before, only with the comfort of being allowed to touch and say things that had been too fragile in the past.

“Stop looking like that,” Emily finally groaned. She rubbed her face. “I told Corvo I was sorry I brought it up and he just  _ mumbled  _ something, and. Yeah. You’re welcome,  _ I guess. _ ”

Corvo blew out a slow, measured breath. He glanced at Daud, but it was mostly just the last affirmation;  _ can I say it? Can we say it? _

“Didn’t turn out too bad,” Daud heard himself say. He was smiling, and when Corvo turned to stare at him he laughed. Alexi was grinning.

“So yesterday, when Corvo didn’t know where his charger was—”

“It’s upstairs,” Daud said with a shrug. “He says my bed is more comfortable.”

“I did not,” Corvo mumbled, but he was smiling. Daud was learning that Corvo was private about his feelings. He didn’t mind kissing in public, but revealing the soft, vulnerable parts was hard for him. 

Emily finally stood up and crossed the patio to where they were standing. Daud peeled himself away from Corvo to check on the grill, and Corvo rubbed his neck.

“I don’t like people sticking their noses into my private stuff but… Thanks. I guess.”

Emily chuckled. “I— _ we _ overstepped. I’m happy for you, but I wish you’d just told me you didn’t want me poking at it.”

“Yeah.” Corvo shuffled into a hug with her, and Daud smiled at the hamburgers he was babying. He was glad that he and Corvo had been too absorbed in their own confusion to address the intrusion before it blew over. It was easier this way.

Later he was watching Emily and Alexi do the dishes. He listened to their comfortable banter through the open back door, and when Corvo sank down onto the not-loveseat Daud pulled him closer, no longer self-conscious. Corvo flopped his head on Daud’s shoulder. He smelled like freshly-cut grass and barbeque.

“I’m glad,” he finally murmured, “that she did poke her nose into my business.”

“Technically it was her wife, first,” Daud mused, earning a weak nudge against his ribs. In the corner of his eye, he saw Corvo smile.

“I mean…” He trailed off, a loose frown on his face. “Maybe we would’ve ended up here. Eventually. But I like that we’re here now.”

“Me too.”


End file.
